A Love So Deep
by madeleine68
Summary: Olivia misses her so much. Post-"Loss" pre-"Ghost" A/O Please review!


**Disclaimer: You know the drill; nothing's mine; etc. etc. etc. Everything belongs to a genius named Dick Wolf.**

**This takes place post-**_**Loss **_**but pre-**_**Ghost**_**. Obviously A/O. I'm not sure if I'm going to leave it as a oneshot or continue, so tell me what I should do.**

I get the call at four in the morning and start awake, beads of sweat pouring down my face, glad to be awoken from yet another nightmare. This one was more of the same – Alex being just a few feet away, and I can see her, and I'm running as fast as I can but I just can't get to her in time and she falls to the ground – and then I wake up.

Flipping open my phone, I answer with a crisp, "Benson."

"Liv, it's me," says Elliot on the other line. "Jane Doe found in East Harlem. Beaten, raped, murdered, the like."

I sigh, turning on the lamp. "Yeah, I'm on my way. Give me the address."

* * *

"So, what have we got?" I ask Elliot, getting out of my car and jogging toward him.

"Jane Doe, no ID on her. Early to mid thirties, maybe 5'8", 5'9". Blonde, blue eyes. We'll run her through the database."

My breath hitches for a moment and my heart skips a beat. But then I calm myself down. _It isn't her, it can't be her. They would have relocated her farther away than East Harlem._

But I have to be sure. Pushing past Elliot, I take a long look at the battered body of a young woman. She bears some resemblance, but she isn't who I'm looking for.

_Thank God. _My knees give way and I try to steady myself, letting out a long sigh of relief. _It's not her. Thank you, thank you, thank you._

* * *

I look for her everywhere, even though I know I won't see her. She's not in New York anymore, and I know I'm torturing myself, forcing myself to live on empty hope. But in the crowd, I'll see a flash of blonde hair and hold my breath, wondering if it might be her. But it never is. Even at the precinct, I'll feel a gentle hand on my shoulder and almost cry, because maybe it's her, maybe she's back.

But it never is. It's just Casey, saying that she's got us a warrant, and all I want is to kill her, even though I know it's not fair. I shouldn't project my own sense of loss onto Casey just because she's _Casey_. Or just because she isn't the one I long for every day.

Casey isn't all that bad, really. We were cold to her in the beginning, but we're kind of almost friends by now. Of course, I'd give her up in a millisecond if I could, if it would bring back the one I love. But it doesn't work that way.

The night before she left, I brought her back to my apartment. We made beautiful, passionate love as if that was all we had and all we ever would, as if that evening would be our last together. Ironically, it was true. We kissed and we laughed and we made love and we cried, tears of regret, tears of fear, tears of sadness, tears of joy, tears of hope. It was pain and love and trepidation and hopelessness and happiness and beauty all rolled into one, and we fell asleep in each other's arms. And I woke up in the morning with my head rested on her shoulder, thinking that maybe this was the safest and the greatest feeling in the entire world.

We declared our mutual undying love, swore that nothing could keep us apart. Then we kissed again and cried some more, because we were wound pretty tight between the case and our newfound revelation, and were overwhelmed with the knowledge that two people could love each other so much and give themselves so fully to each other.

We were going to tell our colleagues, our friends. We were ecstatic; we were hopeful. Maybe we were naïve. But we were in love, in the teenage kind of blinding passion in which you want to spend the rest of your life with someone. But it wasn't superficial at all. I'd loved her from the moment I laid eyes on her, the beauty that emanated from the inside out. In the wake of sweet kisses and fervent lovemaking, I knew I had found the woman of my dreams.

But now, she's gone. They told me it was forever. They told me to forget about her, to pretend she was truly dead. Maybe I'm acting like a child and maybe I'm naïve, but I can't stop myself from hoping that someday, we can be together again.

I love her so much, my Alex.

**Hmm . . . should I continue or should I leave it as a oneshot? Review if you enjoyed!**


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